Heir of Fire (Throne of Glass, #3)

by Sarah J. Maas

The one in the center, the one who had tasted her before, hissed at the sword, “Goldryn.” The darkness paused, and she used its distraction to patch her shields, a chill snaking up her spine even as the flames warmed her. She lifted the sword higher and advanced another step. “But you are not Athril, beloved of the dark queen,” one of them said. Another said, “And you are not Brannon of the Wildfire.” “How do you—” But the words caught in her throat as a memory struck, from months ago—a lifetime ago. Of a realm that was in-between, of the thing that lived inside Cain speaking. To her, and—Elena. Elena, daughter of Brannon. You were brought back, it said. All the players in the unfinished game. A game that had begun at the dawn of time, when a demon race had forged the Wyrdkeys and used them to break into this world, and Maeve had used their power to banish them. But some demons had remained trapped in Erilea and waged a second war centuries later, when Elena fought against them. What of the others, who had been sent back to their realm? What if the King of Adarlan, in learning of the keys, had also learned where to find them? Where to … harness them? Oh gods. “You are the Valg,” she breathed. The three things inside those mortal bodies smiled. “We are princes of our realm.” “And what realm is that?” She poured her magic into the shield behind her. The Valg prince in the center seemed to reach toward her without moving an inch. She sent a punch of flame at him, and he curle...